Trying to be reasonable in an unreasonable world.
Optimistic when possible; cynical when necessary.
Offering the world sporadic musings since 2005.
Elated supporter of the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama

Friday, September 23, 2005

A degree or two in English is good for SOMETHING

I put my education to work last night, winning myself a t-shirt for knowing the title of Wallace Stevens' poem "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird."

Take THAT, you naysayers who said I'd never profit from a degree in English.

_____________________________________

I

Among twenty snowy mountains,The only moving thingWas the eye of the blackbird.

II

I was of three minds,Like a treeIn which there are three blackbirds.

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV

A man and a womanAre one.A man and a woman and a blackbirdAre one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendoes,The blackbird whistlingOr just after.

VI

Icicles filled the long windowWith barbaric glass.The shadow of the blackbirdCrossed it, to and fro.The moodTraced in the shadowAn indecipherable cause.

VII

O thin men of Haddam,Why do you imagine golden birds?Do you not see how the blackbirdWalks around the feetOf the women about you?

VIII

I know noble accentsAnd lucid, inescapable rhythms;But I know, too,That the blackbird is involvedIn what I know.

IX

When the blackbird flew out of sight,It marked the edgeOf one of many circles.

X

At the sight of blackbirdsFlying in a green light,Even the bawds of euphonyWould cry out sharply.

XI

He rode over ConnecticutIn a glass coach.Once, a fear pierced him,In that he mistookThe shadow of his equipageFor blackbirds.

XII

The river is moving.The blackbird must be flying.

XIII

It was evening all afternoon.It was snowingAnd it was going to snow.The blackbird satIn the cedar-limbs.